I have a horrible rule when it comes to Christmas presents. Let’s say you’re my wife, collectively. And you want all sorts of things for Christmas, none of which come from, let’s say Walmart or Prange Way. And since you’re my wife, you tell me, or hint to me, or make giant lists of what you’d like me to get you for Christmas. If you were to do this, I would look over the list, I would. Once the list was reviewed, I’d make mental notes to record each and every gift that was suggested, and then I’d go about making sure that I bought you a gift that wasn’t on the list. This is how I am, so if you ever expect a gift from me you should be certain to not tell me in advance what you’d like, because then I can’t get that thing for you.
Lexus commercials show beautiful people living in the suburbs buying each other cars and trucks for Christmas. They put these new vehicles in the driveway, and then one spouse leads the other outside on Christmas morning and BOOM! it’s a Merry Lexus Christmas. I actually find these commercials insulting, but there’s a chance I might some day buy my wife a Lexus for Christmas as long as she hasn’t asked for it first, or put it on a secret wish list that I somehow found by accidentally snooping around her iPad.
The jewelry companies engage in the most obscene abuse of Christmas cheer, and each commercial is worse than the next. They’re worse because they don’t represent truth, as I’ve given my wife plenty of jewelry over the years and I’ve never once had the reaction that some guy gets on Christmas morning when his wife discovers that he’s given her some boring pendant necklace from Zales. She’s so thrilled, so surprised, and I’m so not buying it. My wife would have to get a diamond the size of the one that DeCaprio died over before she’d even crack a smile.
My children ask for gifts, and then I sometimes give them the sorts of things that they are asking for, which runs contrary to what I’d prefer to do, which is give them something else. They ask for gifts and they receive gifts, but I admit to being a poor Christmas gift giver to these children because I sort of feel like they get whatever they really want no matter what the month is, so there’s no anticipation for Christmas gifts like there was when I was a kid. I never got gifts. Never. My kids now get various gifts in a constant flow of giving, so there’s really no reason to pretend that the gift they get on Christmas morning is any more important or special or needed than the gift they got on some random Tuesday afternoon in September.
This year, let’s do this entire thing differently. Let me help you save your money. Instead of buying some crappy pendant or some ridiculous sweater, I vote for buying a vacation home for Christmas. It’s no less obscene than buying a Lexus, and the interest might even be tax deductible (for a while). Not only that, there’s a chance this gift appreciates, which is a most rare feature of any gift. Look under your tree next Tuesday and try to find me an item that might at least keep pace with inflation and I’m betting you won’t find a single thing, unless your family is giving gold bars for Christmas, in which case a vacation home is less some rare gift and more a long overdue indulgence.